


red as blood

by bunflower



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, BadBoyHalo - Character - Freeform, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Corrupted!Philza, Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Phil is trying his best, Redza - Freeform, Skeppy - Character - Freeform, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), he is very tired, sibling dynamics, the egg, very phil & techno centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunflower/pseuds/bunflower
Summary: “Oh, he won’t find you. Not in time, at least.” The words send a chill down his spine. His feathers prickle uncomfortably as he shuffles backward away from the door. He feels like a caged bird, his wings useless in this tiny prison, stripped of any tools he could use to escape. Panic rises in his chest, but he valiantly battles the fear down.“In time for what?” He takes the bait, because how can he not?Bad smiles.“Oh, you’ll see.”---AKA Philza is forced to succumb to the egg's influence. Redza ensues.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 40
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Blood and violence, pain, future mentions of death. More will be added as the work progresses!
> 
> My first attempt at a longer fic! Hoping to update chapters weekly, maybe more frequently, but we'll see how that goes with college.

If he were honest, Philza would say he was quite sick of visiting L’manberg. 

Though the ruined town still holds precious resources, he harbors no affection for the crumbled remains, nor the memories he has within those walls. Memories of blood and fire, of chains around his ankles and wings, of the fragile body that lay crumpled in his arms, pierced by his own sword.

His face is shadowed as he follows Ranboo along the nether’s narrow path. If the boy notices, he doesn’t say anything, instead chattering on and on about his plans for the home he was finally constructing. The constant babbling is soothing, giving him something else to focus on instead of the old emotions that haunt him.

They are here to gather roses--something about Ranboo needing red dye for his carpets. It seems silly to come all the way to L’manberg for roses when Technoblade had many of his own, but the enderman hybrid was insistent on not using any more of the piglin’s resources.

_ “You’ve both already done enough for me. More than enough.” _ Ranboo had protested when Phil had mentioned their chests full of supplies. His eyes had darted nervously around, his fingers tapping against his thigh as he hovered awkwardly by the cabin’s door.

_ “I can do this myself, at least.” _

Philza chuckles, shaking his head. Oh, if only the boy knew how fond Techno had grown of him. The blood god would do just about anything for Ranboo, even if he’d never voice his affection. Roses were the least of his concerns, not when he’d shed the cape off his back for the kid.

Gods above, the boy is stubborn. Just like Techno, just like Wilbur, just like Tommy. It seems to be a common trait in the people Phil welcomes into his life. It had taken a lot to get Ranboo to allow Phil to accompany him to gather supplies, and even more to keep Techno from tagging along.

_ “You’re not exactly welcome there, mate.” _ Phil had joked, as Technoblade stood on the staircase, watching his friends begin their trek to the portal. It wasn’t as if Phil was, either--he’d burned that bridge the second he’d burned L’manberg. At the very least, he was generally better at biting his tongue than his old friend. All it would take to set the piglin hybrid off these days would be a mere glimpse of Tubbo or Tommy. Techno had snorted and muttered some snarky remarks, but had ultimately relented after getting Phil’s promise that they’d return by sundown at the latest.

Ranboo is still rambling on and on, though it’s mostly to himself now. At some point during their travels, the hybrid had picked up a large stone, tail lashing excitedly behind him. He cradles it as they walk, bicolor eyes darting to-and-fro in search of the proper place to put it. The boy had started displaying more and more of his enderman tendencies since moving to the tundra, becoming increasingly at ease with himself as he spent time away from the pressures L’manberg had placed upon him. Phil was overjoyed to see Ranboo so relaxed, so confident in himself. It had been a while since he’d last seen the boy endure a panic attack or hide himself away when the self-doubt became too much to bear. He was healing, and Philza desperately hoped the rest of the country’s former citizens would do the same one day.

“Phil?” Ranboo suddenly stops walking, shooting him an odd look.

Oh, he’d gotten lost in his thoughts again, hadn’t he?

Phil smiles and follows the boy’s gaze, curious as to what could have pulled him from his excited musings.

His stomach clenches as he sees it.

The vines have spread. They’d been present before, but never like  _ this _ . Crimson tendrils cover the earth, stretching toward the pillar. They ensnare the rebuilt community house, shattering their way through windows and rupturing through the wooden planks of the boardwalk. It’s eerily quiet as they stand, perplexed, on the steps that lead down from the portal. Nothing moves. There’s no sign of life in the abandoned country except the vines, which throb angrily from time to time, inching steadily forward at a snail’s pace. The air hangs heavy, a strange, electrified energy present that thrums with dark malice.

Phil was the first to speak.

“Mate, I think we should go.” He murmurs, placing a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. The kid is tense, his ears flickering and tail-tip twitching fretfully. He gives a shaky nod, and Phil instinctively outstretches one wing to steer him backward, toward the portal. They stumble up the steps together, away from the obvious danger.

Their steps still as they reach the top.

Red eyes stare them down. Bad and Antfrost block their way to the portal, weapons drawn and faces strangely blank, void of emotion. Blood roars in Philza’s ears as he quickly pulls Ranboo behind him, holding his hands up placatingly.

“Hey there, mates.” He calls out, taking a few steps forward. The pair tense, pointing their weapons at him, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Whoa there. Listen, we don’t mean any trouble.” His hand inches slowly toward his blade as he spoke, holding Bad’s gaze. The hooded man stares back, unflinching, and merely gives a pointed flick of his sword. Ranboo makes a strangled, burbling chirp behind him, and it’s clear he’s scared. Phil’s lips are a thin line, his eyes narrowed as he stares down the new threat. He knows they aren’t getting out of this easily.

“We just want to get home. We won’t stay if that’s the trouble. Just let us through.” Even as he speaks, he knows it’s useless. Something bigger is going on here, more than just old grudges.

He’s quickly proven right when Antfrost hisses and lunges forward, ears pinned back as he swings his sword at Ranboo. Philza is quick to block the blow with his own blade, steel singing as he shoves the feline back with a shout. His teeth grit as he whirls around, steps alerting him to the approach of Bad. The demon is unusually silent, a frown on his face as he stabs forward. Phil dodges to the side just in time to avoid the worst of the blow, the blade slicing through fabric instead of skin. 

“Ranboo, you need to go!” He cries, shooting a quick glance at the boy before Ant surges forward again, drawing his attention back to the fight. He knows Ranboo can fight, but he can take these two. He’d much rather the hybrid get back to the cabin and let Techno know what’s going on so the piglin can prepare some potions. 

Ranboo, blessedly, doesn’t protest. He catches a blur of black and white as the hybrid darts past the fray toward the unprotected portal. Bad moves to stop him, but with a flap of his wings, Phil’s between him and the boy, kicking out hard and sending his enemy stumbling back.

“Your fight’s with me.” Phil mutters, smirking as he watches Bad rise from the dirt. The familiar hum of the portal alerts him to Ranboo’s escape, and he relaxes as a burden is lifted from his shoulders. Without someone to protect, Phil can fight unhindered. Bad and Antfrost don’t stand a chance.

Within minutes, he’s winning the fight. Bad and Ant are a force to be reckoned with, but Phil has years of experience under his belt. He isn’t nicknamed the Angel of Death for nothing, after all. He stands over them as they crouch, disarmed and glaring up at him. Ant’s tail lashes and he lets out a hiss, teeth bared, and Phil tsks at him in disapproval.

“Bad kitty.” He laughs. He’s sore and tired, and in desperate need of some ice for his bruises, but he’s won. Ranboo should have reached the cabin by now, which means Techno will have prepared some regeneration potions by the time he makes it back home. He smiles, knowing he’ll find the piglin hovering anxiously by the tundra’s portal, awaiting his return. 

His thoughts are put to a screeching halt as fire blossoms in his wing. 

“Ah,  _ shit _ .”

An arrow has pierced the feathers, blood dripping steadily down to the earth as the appendage sags uselessly against his side.

He whirls in place to see Skeppy perched atop the portal, holding a crossbow and staring down at him with that same blank gaze. The second his back is turned, he hears movement behind him. He turns too late, and the heavy pommel of Bad’s sword strikes him across the cheek. Phil careens sideways, wings outstretched as he fumbles with his own weapon, vision foggy and something hot and wet trickling down the side of his face. 

The second fight is even shorter than the first. He quickly finds that the arrow has been tipped with something--poisoning or weakness, he can’t tell--and his movements grow slow and lethargic as each second passes. It doesn’t take long for Ant’s claws to score across the bridge of his nose, followed by a heavy blow between his shoulders that makes his wings  _ ache _ all the way to their tips. He sags forward as the breath rushes out from his lungs, and strong hands grasp around each of his arms, pulling him back upright again.

He glares into Bad’s grey eyes, dazed and confused. Bad glares back.

“It didn’t have to be this hard, Phil.” He murmurs, speaking for the first time since the fight began. 

Phil snorts.

“What, you wanted me to just fucking come quietly? That’s likely. What is this, Bad?”

Bad hums, but doesn’t answer, instead turning his attention to Ant and Skeppy. He gives a nod, and Phil is jerked forward as the two begin walking, holding him firmly in place. He doesn’t make it easy for them--he twists and drags his feet, and even sinks his teeth into Skeppy’s arm when his hand inches too close for Phil’s liking. He’s rewarded for that last one with another blow to the head, and that’s enough to make him go limp as the world drifts in and out of focus, spinning around him.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed before they come to a halt. One second he’s being dragged along, the next, he’s falling forward. His arms strike cold obsidian, and, oddly, something strangely  _ warm _ as he’s dropped into a dark room. His breath wheezes out as he pulls himself up onto his elbows to stare up at his captors. Instead, he finds a steel door that slams behind him. He can see Bad’s hood through the bars at the top.

“The fuck is this?” He spits out, his ears ringing as he crawls to the door, slamming his fist against it. It predictably doesn’t budge. 

“The egg has a plan for you.” Finally, Bad answers, but it doesn’t tell Phil shit about what’s going on. The egg? He vaguely remembers seeing it, visiting it in his past adventures to the country. He hadn’t been all that impressed--more grossed out. What had concerned him more had been the violent tendencies displayed toward his grandson. He and Ranboo had helped the fox escape from Antfrost back then, and he realizes now that it should have been a very bright red flag. Philza finds himself sorely regretting not bringing the whole fiasco up with Techno after the matter.

Techno. He’s sure his friend is panicking by now. His absence must surely have been noticed, which means help will be on the way soon. He grins, but his relief fades as Bad’s gaze darkens.

“Oh, he won’t find you. Not in time, at least.” The words send a chill down his spine. His feathers prickle uncomfortably as he shuffles backward away from the door. He feels like a caged bird, his wings useless in this tiny prison, stripped of any tools he could use to escape. Panic rises in his chest, but he valiantly battles the fear down.

“In time for what?” He takes the bait, because how can he not?

Bad smiles.

“Oh, you’ll see.” And then he leaves. Skeppy and Ant, too.

_ Fan-fucking-tastic. _

He’s left alone to his thoughts, slumped against the cold obsidian wall, wings drawn tightly around him as he shivers. His wounds twinge with each shudder, and he can still feel a steady trickle from the bolt in his wing. He should pull it out, bandage it with whatever he can find, but he feels rooted to the spot. Everything about this prison screams wrong. Even the ground beneath him thrums with an unnerving, life-like rhythm. There’s something foreign nagging at the corner of his mind, tugging persistently, and he stubbornly tries to ignore it.

Time passes slowly.

It feels like he’s been in there for days.

_ ‘Where is Techno?’ _

It might only be hours.

_ ‘Where am I?’ _

He’s so, so tired. 

_ ‘Who am I?’ _

_ “You are mine.”  _ Comes the answer.

A new voice joins the flurry of thoughts in Phil’s head, and he’s loathed to fight its pull any longer. It calls to him, whispering sweet nothings and promises of peace, of a life without pain. It weaves him stories of a mended family, of a world without war, of a son brought back from the grave. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, assuring forgiveness for all of his wrongdoings--painting vivid images of a peaceful home in the countryside, with his loved ones gathered all around him. He knows it’s too good to be true, but every time he rebels the voice just grows louder and louder, raising to a scream that overpowers his every other thought.

His head hurts.

The blood continues to drip.

Tiredly, he lets his head fall back against the stone and closes his eyes as the corners of his vision tinge scarlet. He’s unaware that his guards have returned, smiles spreading slowly across their faces as they watch him finally succumb to the egg’s influence.

His world falls into darkness, and the voice goes silent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade and Ranboo reconnect. Philza is alone. Things get worse.
> 
> \---
> 
> TW: Blood and violence, pain, mentions of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Chapter 2 is a go! Thank you so much for all of the incredible support so far, I'm so overjoyed at the response I've gotten and I hope you continue to love this concept as much as I do! A special thanks again to my friends for beta reading this for me!
> 
> So without further ado, on with the next chapter!

Technoblade knows something’s off right from the start.

Call it intuition, call it instinct---he’s always possessed a second sense when it comes to danger. Particularly when those he cares about are involved. It’s saved many lives in the past---Tommy, at a young age, nearly toddling off a cliff before Techno snatched him away from danger. Wilbur, getting pulled out of the path of an arrow mid-battle. Phil---countless times. The older man has an innate knack for getting himself into trouble.

So when Phil and Ranboo had left earlier that morning, and he’d felt that strange pull in his gut, he should have known better than to ignore it. Phil had waved him off with a calm smile and plenty of reassurances, and he’d let it go with little more than some half-hearted grumbling.

He wanders impatiently in the snowy fields nearest to the portal, kicking at the snow with his hooves and shooting occasional glances at the swirling purple void. He has half a mind to rush in and go find his companions, but he can imagine the teasing look on Phil’s face if he’s caught worrying over _nothing_. Phil constantly tells him he worries too much, and the last thing he wants to do is show the man he’s been hovering again. He’d never hear the end of it.

 _“Awww, you do care about us!”_ He can practically hear his friend coo---can feel the man’s hand playfully rubbing at his hair. He grimaces.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long at all. The portal hums back to life far sooner than expected, and familiar black and white face ducks haphazardly through. Immediately, Techno is at Ranboo’s side, grasping the boy’s shoulder as he wheezes, doubling over. Something’s wrong--he _knew_ something would go wrong!

_‘Ranboo hurt...?_

_Enderboy scared…_

_E…_

_Blood for the Blood God..._

_Protect Ranboo…’_

“Ranboo? What’s going on?” He asks, giving the hybrid a gentle shake as the boy tries to catch his breath. The portal is eerily silent behind them, and Technoblade freezes as he comes to a sickening realization. 

Only one of them has returned.

“Where’s Phil?”

Ranboo looks up at him, ears twitching nervously as he shoots a quick glance behind him, as if he’s worried he’s been followed. Techno’s free hand shoots to his axe as he follows the kid’s gaze. If something other than Phil steps through that portal, it’ll be dead in seconds.

“I-I don’t know, he was supposed to be right behind me! Bad and Ant tried to stop us from leaving, he looked like he had it handled and told me to go on ahead.” Ranboo’s trembling fitfully now. His eyes are wide with worry and fear, and he suddenly looks so _small._ Techno realizes too late that his grip has tightened painfully around the kid’s shoulder in his panic. He lets go and the younger hybrid skitters backwards, rubbing at the sore spot and shooting him nervous glances.

Shit.

He’ll apologize later, but there’s a more pressing matter at hand.

“Bad and Antfrost?” Technoblade wants to laugh, but something stops him. Phil was more than a capable fighter and could easily handle those two on his own. The man had years of fighting experience under his belt, and despite his age, he was still deadly quick with a blade. He’s one of the few fighters that can hold their own against Techno in a sparring match. Though the piglin worries a lot for his friend, there was an unspoken trust between them, an assurance that the winged hybrid could, in fact, take care of himself. It would take more than a cat and a soft-hearted demon to challenge him. 

Despite the ease on his heart, he still had questions left unanswered. Bad and Ant were, as far as he knew, neutral. They didn’t hold the same grudges against himself and Phil that those from L’manberg did. The fact that they had targeted Phil and Ranboo was perplexing, at best. At worst… 

“What did they want with you?”

Ranboo gives a little shrug, his tail flicking as he leans down to pick up some snow in his gloved hands, rolling it into a ball and tossing it from side to side. He keeps shooting glances back at the portal. Techno finds himself doing the same.

“I’m not...really sure? They didn’t actually say anything. They just sort of stared at us before they attacked. Honestly, it was kinda creepy.” He gives a nervous chuckle, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Techno is, to put it mildly, concerned about this new information. If there was one thing he knew about Bad, it was that he wasn’t quiet. His cheery brightness and energetic persona was something the piglin hybrid--not that’d he’d ever admit it out loud--feared. How was he supposed to interact with a literal ray of sunshine? It was terrifying. 

_‘Technolame.’_ Is all the voices have to say to that.

Right. His own social awkwardness aside, the whole situation just screamed _wrong_.

“Did they seem interested in you at all? Or just Phil?” He pressures, trying to make sense of it all. 

“They swung at me at first, but once Phil stepped in they were pretty focused on him. They didn’t want me to leave, but they didn’t really give chase, either. I was able to escape pretty easily.”

Odd.

“Anything else seem weird? Notice anything out of place?” 

Ranboo’s brow furrows.

“I mean, it’s not really about Bad or Ant. Could be totally unrelated, I don’t really--”

“Ranboo.”

A sigh.

“Y’know the vines?”

Techno nods. He’s seen them on the rare occasions he’s returned to what’s left of L’manberg, but he’d never really cared much about them. Plants were plants. Even if they were red and pulsed and kinda gave him the creeps.

“They’ve gotten out of control--taken over that whole area. They’re destroying buildings and were creeping toward the portal when Phil and I got there. That’s when we tried to leave. They seemed like they were _alive_.”

And then Techno remembers. An old book on a shelf in the library of the Syndicate’s base. He and Phil had spent hours thumbing through the pages of books after books, searching for the ancient secrets they held. They’d chalked one up to fairytales. Charcoal drawings of a strange egg shape, surrounded by curling red vines. Tales of sentience and corruption, of a ravenous hunger that grew and grew, never fully satisfied. Stories of bloodshed and possession and death.

Ice forms like a pit in his stomach.

“Ranboo, I think we’ve got a problem.”

* * *

_“Mine.”_

_“You belong to me.”_

_“I’ll keep you safe.”_

_“I’ll keep your family safe.”_

_“I’ll give you the power to protect them.”_

_“Trust me. Love me.”_

Philza can’t tell which way is up. He lies crumpled on the prison floor, cheek against the cool obsidian while the world spins around him. His wings lay limp against the ground, partially folded. There’s not nearly enough room to stretch them out. Everything is red. He’s hot and cold at the same time, burning from the inside out. His head pounds, feeling ready to explode from the pressure inside at any given moment. He’s nauseous and exhausted and he spends most of his time in blissful unconscious. When he wakes, there’s always that same voice speaking to him, overriding his every thought. He can’t tell himself apart from the words being whispered into his ears.

_“You can have it all back… Technoblade, Tommy, Wilbur… You can be happy.”_

“Who are you?” He finally asks, his voice pathetically weak. He hears movement outside--one of his guards, probably, listening in to the conversation.

 _“I am you.”_ Comes the simple reply. _“Everything you desire, everything you can become.”_

Phil’s eyes flutter shut. He sees red instead of darkness.

_“Don’t you want them to be safe? Don’t you want to be a family again?”_

He imagines his boys, gathered together at the kitchen table, smiling and laughing and sharing stories. Techno’s grinning as Wilbur strums his guitar, singing them a silly song while Tommy kicks at Techno’s shins under the table. 

Phil’s heart _aches_. 

“I do.” He responds truthfully. He can’t keep the hope out of his tone. He wants that more than anything in the world. Wants to fix his mistakes, wants to repair his broken family. 

_“I can give you that. I can give you the strength to protect them. I can give you the words to convince them, to open their eyes to the truth.”_

He thinks of Tommy, wide-eyed and terrified, staring at the ruins of his country. The country that had exiled him, the country that had manipulated him, the country that had caused the death of--

_“I can bring Wilbur back to you.”_

_Wilbur._ His boy. Tears spring to his eyes unbidden at the thought of holding him again, feeling his heart beating strongly in his chest, seeing that precious smile across his face once again. He wants to cradle him in his wings, wants to kiss his forehead and apologize for failing him and never let go again.

“How?” He asks.

 _“Give in.”_ The voice hums.

Phil is tired. So tired.

So he does.

* * *

Phil’s still not back. He should have been back by now.

It’s been too long, and Technoblade is sick of waiting. He’s fully equipped, armed to the teeth, his pockets brimming with potions of every kind. Ranboo stands nervously beside him, similarly prepared, but far less enthusiastic. Still, there’s a new fire in the kid’s eyes, a stubborn determination to help. His tail lashes behind him as he grips his sword so hard his knuckles turn white. 

The voices coo over him, swearing to protect him at all costs. Techno finds himself agreeing, despite his better judgment. Attachments are a weakness. He’s all too familiar with the cost.

_‘Tommy…_

_Kick the child…_

_Traitor…_

_Used us as a tool…_

_Make him bleed…_

_Blood for the Blood God…’_

“Now’s not the time, chat.” He grunts, and the muttering falls mercifully silent. Ranboo shoots him a questioning look but thankfully doesn’t pry. 

Technoblade knows enough about the egg to recognize it’s a threat. If the stories from the book weren’t enough, the evidence within L’manberg definitely is. The Eggpire banners strewn about are cultish, and he’ll be damned if he lets another government form right beneath his nose.

“Ready?” The piglin asks, shouldering his axe as he casts a look at Ranboo.

The boy squares his shoulders and gives a little nod.

They’re going to save Phil. Whatever’s happened to him, he needs their help. 

Technoblade thinks of his best friend’s one and only life, and a surge of fresh fury boils in his veins. If Bad and Ant have so much as laid a hand on the man, he won’t allow them the mercy of a quick death. 

_‘Blood…_

_Protect Phil…_

_Dadza…_

_Crush the egg…_

_Kill them all…_

_Rescue Phil…_

_Blood for the Blood God…_

_Blood for the Blood God…’_

Ranboo lets out an angry noise, halfway between a warped growl and a screech. 

Together, they step through the portal and into the heat of the nether.

They won’t let Phil down.

* * *

Somewhere far away, Phil awakens.

He feels strong. A new warmth surges beneath his skin, and as he lifts his hand, red light flickers just beneath the skin within his veins. 

He rises to his feet, and the cell door opens in front of him. Steady hands help him discard his bloodied green robe, and a new one is wrapped around him. It’s soft and silky to the touch, dyed the same deep crimson as the vines beneath his feet. It’s not his usual style, but he put it on nevertheless. It suits him. 

The cat and the demon step away from him without another word, and he smiles coldly. 

His wings outstretch, fanning out so far they brush the vines dangling from the ceiling. Feathers that were once an ashen grey are now pure white, practically glowing in the dim light of the cavern. Where feathers had once been torn and burnt, they are now perfect and unblemished, just like his skin. Every wound, every _scar_ has been healed. 

For the first time in months, Phil feels whole again. The egg hums proudly at the back of his mind, and he practically preens at the praise.

 _‘My Angel of Death,’_ it sings in his ear, and weaves him intricate tales of all his conquests to come. 

He turns his gaze on his former captors, now his allies.

_No._

His pawns.

They bow their heads as he stares. Satisfaction tastes sweet. His grin widens.

“Gentleman, we have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor, poor Philza. If you can't tell, I'm a massive c!Philza apologist, and I absolutely love to write things from his perspective. He's a super fascinating character and nothing pains me more than all of the hate I see for his character across social media. He's made a LOT of mistakes as a parent, but I also believe that people tend to neglect his own trauma when they consider his character. I'm hoping I can do him proper justice throughout this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm so excited to tackle a bigger project, and this concept was too fascinating to miss out on! Even if c!Phil is immune, Redza is just too great of a character opportunity to let go. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated! Let me know if there's anything, in particular, you'd like to see from this work, as the smaller details in the storyline are still a big WIP! A special thanks to my discord friends for proofreading for me, I love you guys! <3


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